Hunting the Star Forge
by Mordred Dantete
Summary: A "Write as I play" progression through KOTOR focusing on Bastila and Revan AKA Aaron Stern and their quest to save the galaxy. UPDATE: CH: 7 live.
1. The Beginning

Six of them had made it to the bridge. One she hadn't known had fallen in the hangar bay, the other, Thomas, had been killed by a Dark Jedi at the elevator. Three of them from Dantooine survived, the other three were Jedi Bastila did not know.

The bridge doors slid open and the six of them hurried through. All of their views were drawn to the Dark Lord. He stood at the end of the raised walkway near the main window, his back to them, watching the battle outside. Scattered around the room were a dozen or so technicians nervously working their terminals. In addition to them were six Dark Jedi, standing with their arms folded over their chests, glowering at the Jedi strike team.

For several long moments no one spoke. Eventually a great sigh escaped the Dark Lord; his shoulders slumped slightly. "Eight of you I felt come aboard but only six here now. It saddens me to know that my own soldiers would disobey my orders. Clearly they have already paid for their disobedience with their lives. Thank you for saving me the trouble of killing them myself." His voice was deathly calm and mildly distorted by his mask. He turned to face them, still with his hands clasped casually behind his back.

Bastila was once again struck by how imposing and intimidating Revan could be, yet still be so… short. Well… average height. But what he lacked in stature he more than made up for in raw power. Just standing in his presence was enough to reawaken the fear and doubts she had had when starting this mission. Looking at what he had become was like swimming through a darkness that clung to her limbs, weighing her down until she was drowning.

One of the Knights that had accompanied her from Dantooine spoke up, pulling her from her thoughts.

"In the name of the Galactic Republic and the Jedi Order, you are under arrest Revan!"

Bastila thanked the Force for Nolan. He was a shining beacon to Revan's swirling void. Tall, handsome, and as true to the light as any Jedi could be. She remembered that he and Revan had once been friendly rivals, almost evenly matched in power and skill. The authority in his voice pulled Bastila from the darkness and restored her confidence. They would accomplish their mission and capture Revan. They would have their answers about his fall and his traitorous actions later when they were safe on Dantooine again.

Despite the power in Nolan's voice, Revan ignored him entirely. "I felt the Battle Meditation you used to board my ship. Tell me, which of you possesses that power? It was brilliantly done." Revan's voice, though still perfectly calm, rumbled with the power of the Force.

Bastila felt compelled to admit her role in the assault. No, not compelled, not admit, she wanted to take credit for her actions, for her power. A power that impressed one as powerful as Revan was worth some recognition. Her left foot slid forward and her mouth opened to claim responsibility, but at the last second she managed to stop herself.

He was devious. A simple question goaded on with thoughts of pride and glory in her, no doubt feeding jealousy in the others. Was it so easy for him to turn others to the dark side? She closed her mouth defiantly and slowly moved back in line with the others, but it was too late. He had read it in her posture and half started actions, as well as the body language of the others. He had his answer.

"Bastila?" He said, almost sounding surprised. "This would explain much. Had I known of your ability before I left I would have taken greater strides to take you with me." He paused for a moment while she glared at him then continued. "You have the strength and power to become a great Jedi Bastila Shan. But with the proper guidance you could become a legendary Sith!" The other Jedi looked at her nervously as Revan held out his hand. "Come Bastila, join me. With your Battle Meditation we can end this war quickly. With your power you could limit the bloodshed. Together we would be an unstoppable force, the Republic would lose ground daily, and you could influence them into surrender rather than resistence. Think about it Bastila. You hold the lives of the entire Republic in your hands. Come to me Bastila, you will lead our troops to bloodless victory. You will be hailed as the great savior. The one who ended the war, ended the slaughter…"

His voice had softened, he genuinely sounded concerned. He wanted her help, _her_ help, Bastila Shan, the lowly Padawan and her great gift. It was so tempting; she could almost see the end of the war, the celebration, millions of lives saved by her actions…

"Don't listen to him Bastila!" Nolan shouted, again saving her from her dark thoughts. "He is a Sith, he spreads nothing but lies!" Nolan ignited his lightsaber, the blue blade shone brightly in the dully lit room. Bastila and the other Jedi followed his example. Nolan continued. "This is your last chance Revan, surrender peacefully or we will use force!"

Revan slowly lowered his hand and put it behind his back once more. He seemed to consider Nolan's words before speaking. "Kill them. But leave Bastila alive. We still have much to discuss."

The Dark Jedi sprang forward, crimson blades extending from their own lightsabers and the twelve Jedi joined battle. The one facing Bastila moved slowly, almost hesitantly. She could see the fear in his eyes as he stalked forward. She risked a glance around. The others were joining battle with sabers or Force powers depending on their preference, each facing a Dark Jedi who seemed to share that preference. Revan had clearly chosen his minions very carefully for this. Even the one facing her, his fear could only mean he was a novice. His fear was a novice's fear of his first real battle, and it mirrored her own.

_Damn him._ She thought. _He's mocking us._

But she did not have time for such thoughts. Her opponent started pressing hard. He fought like it was a training session; like she used to spar with her instructors, and for some reason that helped her. High, low, thrust, repulse, lock. She was forcing him back. Thrust, repulse, high.

She heard a scream, shaking her focus and turned to see one of the Jedi from Coruscant, and older man, shrinking back under a barrage of lightning, leaping forth from the Dark Jedi's fingers. Even as she watched the Dark Jedi moved forward and cut him down, silencing him.

Nolan moved to take on the now extra Sith, his lightsaber working in brilliant arcs as he fought off both of his assailants. With a twist and roll of his blade he pierced the heart of one Dark Jedi and delivered a slash across the throat of the other. He took a few steps forward and leveled his lightsaber toward Revan.

"You'll pay for all you've done!"

"Why can't any of you understand? Why can't any of you _see_ that what I'm doing is necessary? How can you all be so blind? Even my own apprentice is blind…" it was difficult to tell if Revan was speaking to Nolan or simply musing aloud. It was a strange thing to say. Bastila decided that there must be some trick to his words, some hidden threat in his calm voice and casual posture.

She tried to call out to Nolan to be calm, but her attacker was pressing her too hard. She growled and pushed forward, changing her stance slightly, moving faster and flashing her blade before his eyes to distract him. She was pushing him back, hoping to finish him quickly so she could aid Nolan.

Nolan lunged at Revan, whose crimson lightsaber hissed to life. With only the slightest of movements, Revan deflected all of Nolan's initial attacks, not moving an inch, forcing Nolan to be the one to step back and prepare again. Revan raised his lightsaber casually in one hand. Nolan came on again, but still Revan defeated each of his attacks with casual ease, his left hand still held behind his back like it was all some sort of game. High, high, side, high, thrust. Revan rolled his blade up, forcing his over Nolan's thrusting blade and slashed out at the Jedi's face. Nolan ducked back just in time, and took an extra step back from the Sith Lord. Revan resumed his casual ready stance, his left hand still held behind his back.

Bastila pressed hard but while her opponent gave ground he would not leave any proper holes in his defense. She had pushed him back up the ramp almost to where Revan and Nolan were holding their duel. Bastila decided to abandon subtlety and began raining down heavy overhand blows with as much strength as she could muster. The novice continued retreating but without being able to look behind him his footing was unsure. She felt him falter beneath her attacks and held the next strike, forcing his blade down and to the side. She released the lock and thrust forward, he dodged but he had to move closer to the edge of the walkway putting him even more off balance, just as she had planned. She retracted her blade and came down with one last overhead strike. The novice raised his lightsaber, still not having fully regained his balance. His blade intersected hers but it did little good as the force of her swing drove his blade before it. Both her yellow blade and his red one passed across his face, effectively boiling it away in an instant. The novice tried to scream but could only make a choked gurgling noise as he crashed to the ground. Bastila had never killed anyone so directly before, but the adrenaline and the blood pumping in her ears delayed any impact that might have had on the young woman, at least for the moment.

She looked up just in time to see Nolan moving in for his third bout with Revan. But Revan finally moved his left had from behind his back. He reached out with the Force and grabbed Nolan, crushing him and slamming his body to the floor. Even through the rushing in her ears and the clash of lightsabers behind her she heard his neck snap and his last breath violently blast from his lungs.

As she watched Nolan's lifeless body crumple on the walkway, Bastila was vaguely aware of the other three Jedi moving to form up with her. Revan looked up from the body on the floor and looked directly at Bastila, assuming her the new spokeswoman of the team.

The other Jedi seemed to feel the same, each waiting at the ready slightly behind her. Nina, the one other surviving Jedi from Dantooine moved up beside Bastila and whispered. "We are with you."

Bastila blinked back tears and tried to swallow down her panic. Nolan had always been strong, and had been Revan's rival during training. But he had been defeated so easily. What hope could they have?

_The mission!_ She told herself. _Remember the mission! Lead them, take him down!_

"You cannot win, Revan!" It took her a long moment to realize that she was the one who had said those words. And with such authority and power that she neither felt, nor believed. Around her she sensed the other Jedi stele themselves for the fight with the Dark Lord.

A terminal across the bridge began beeping an alarm, all but unheard as all the technicians had fled the instant lightsabers were ignited. Bastila and the other Jedi's gazes were drawn to something past Revan as he twirled his saber, positioning it at the ready high near his left shoulder, almost parallel to the floor.

Through the window they could see Malak's ship, the _Leviathan_, had pulled back from what remained of the space battle and turned broadside to Revan's. Even as they watched the _Leviathan's_ cannons flared to life and lances of red energy shot toward the ship. Bastila was too stunned to shout a warning, but the female Twi'lek behind her managed to at least begin one.

"Brace yours-" was as far as she got before the explosions rocked the bridge. Nina, on Bastila's right was thrown from the walkway and in her fall hit her head on a nearby terminal. Bastila herself tried to use the Force to push off of the floor at the moment of impact, softening the blow somewhat. She was still thrown to the floor and felt a searing pain in her left arm. Her lightsaber was ripped from her grasp, and she used her now empty right hand to break her fall. The impact shook up the entire length of her arm, making it go instantly numb. The Jedi on her left was thrown backward to the ground, and the Twi'lek who had managed to shout the warning tumbled off the other side of the walkway.

Revan himself had been blown forward. Having been caught unaware and closest to the impact he had bared the worst injury and lay prone on the floor before a badly cracked window.

Bastila pushed herself up on her numb arm, shaking her head to try and clear it. "Re-report!" she managed to say.

The Twi'lek was the first to stand, swaying dangerously on her feet. "Mokay… ona… mokay…" She braced herself against the walkway with one hand, holding her head in the other, her legs shaking badly. The other Jedi hauled himself to his feet from where he had been thrown. "I'm ok. We got to get out of her, now!"

Bastila looked around for Nina, finally finding her body sprawled on the floor, her head surrounded by a halo of blood from where her head had cracked open. Her eyes were open, but glassy and dull in death. Bastila choked back a sob.

"Lets go!" The other Jedi said again, moving up and helping the Twi'lek up onto the walkway and starting back the way they had come. Bastila began to crawl forward to where her lightsaber had fallen near Revan's body. She was halfway there when he stirred and moaned weakly.

The Twi'lek had recovered enough to be astonished. "He's still alive…" she said. The alarms on the ship were blaring. The shouting of crewmembers in nearby corridors, the stomping of feet fleeing toward the escape pods. To the three Jedi all of it stopped as they heard a much more ominous sound: The slow, soft crack of glass.

They stayed motionless, scarcely breathing as the cracks slowly spread until suddenly the whole of the main window shattered at once, shards of glass being ripped out into the vacuum of space. Bastila saw her lightsaber being sucked toward the void as well as Revan's body being dragged closer to the gaping hole that used to be a window. She felt the air rushing past her, heard the angry roar of the void, and made up her mind in an instant.

She reached out with the Force, grasping not her lightsaber, which she watched helplessly as it sailed out into space, but onto Revan's unconscious body. She struggled to hold her concentration, to hold the Sith Lord's body in place for the few agonizing seconds it took for the emergency blast shield to cover the window, sealing the breach. Bastila collapsed for a moment before dragging herself to Revan's body.

"Leave him!" the Human shouted from the door, "He's dead!"

"He is not dead!" Bastila shouted back. "Our mission is to bring him back alive, and I for one will NOT let all this death be in vain, we WILL bring him back, and he will NOT die; I will NOT let him!" Bastila placed her hands on Revan's chest plate. She could feel his life ebbing away; in spite of her defiant speech she did not know how to stop it.

_Damn it you will not die here! I won't let you waste their lives! Live damn you live!_

As if in answer to her desperation, she felt power flow through her and into the unconscious Revan, as if stuffing his life back into him by sheer force of will.

The ship rocked with another set of explosions as the _Leviathan_ continued to fire upon them. Bastila put one of Revan's arms over her shoulders and tried to stand up, but he was too heavy, and she was too weak. "Help me!" she shouted. The dazed Twi'lek disengaged herself from the Human and hurried over, taking Revan's other arm the two of them hauled the Dark Lord out of the bridge.

On their way back to the hangar, they encountered several soldiers and crewmen but none of them paid the Jedi a second glance. They were all too busy running for their own escape to care. They managed to get to their ship just as the explosions began to tear through the hangar. The two Jedi from Coruscant went to the cockpit, leaving Bastila to drag Revan to the small infirmary. Somehow she managed to get him onto one of the beds. As the ship took off and sped out of the destroyed hanger, Bastila carefully pried off Revan's mask.

She had not known Revan very well before he left for the Mandalorian War, but she knew his face had changed. His dark hair was still long and unruly beneath the hood, but his face was much harder than she remembered. He looked almost troubled. And there was a long scar under his eye that he must have gotten during the war. Stubble lined his cheeks and chin. _Why shave when you wear a mask all day?_ She thought.

Carefully she hooked the unconscious Revan up to the life support systems. She checked the monitors, he was stabilized. Whatever she had done on the bridge of his ship, it had worked.

_Of all the people who died today I managed to save only one life. The life of our greatest enemy and the man who killed Nolan, and Nina, and Thomas, and so many others… Please… Please let this not be a mistake._

She tried to hold on but she had reached the end of her endurance long ago. Bastila slumped forward as sleep overwhelmed her; her head resting on the body of the Sith Lord.


	2. Recovery

She had no idea how long she had been out. But when Bastila opened her eyes she was not slumped on the floor of the strike team's ship, but she was tucked into a comfortable bed and surrounded by the soft, warm glow of med-station lighting. She tried to sit up, but her body would not obey. Slowly, she managed to move her head enough to look around.

The room was small, white, and sterile. Someone had removed her robes and dressed her in a basic hospital gown. Likewise her hair had been undone and fell to her shoulders, tickling her neck. Her right arm tingled, presumably from receiving several injections. Her left arm was wrapped in bandages. A rather large red stain was clearly visible through the white wrapping indicating an injury she did not remember receiving.

She tried to remember what had happened aboard Revan's ship, but it was difficult. Her thoughts were sluggish, she was still so tired. Gradually, as she began to relax again she became aware of a presence; a heavy, dark presence. It was nearby, sleeping… no… comatose? At semi regular intervals a series of images would flare up from the presence. Such horrible images of battles and death flying past with lightning speed. They were probing, searching for something. Bastila closed her eyes and tried to shut them out. As she did the images abruptly stopped. She sighed, relived and sank back into her pillows wanting to sleep for another couple days, but she had only closed her eyes for a few moments before the door to her room slid open and a medical droid entered.

"Ah, welcome back Miss Shan. Are you feeling well?" the droid asked, moving to stand at the foot of her bed.

"I- … I am tired. And I can't move my limbs…" She said somewhat nervously. "Have I received some serious injury?"

"Negative Miss Shan." The droid said, pausing, apparently bringing up her information and running some calculations. "You were given two immunity booster shots upon arrival as standard procedure, as well as a sedative which should be wearing off very shortly. Side effects of the sedative are usually momentary dizziness and rare cases of nausea. You were also administered antibiotics and a muscle inhibiter so as not to accidentally re-open the wound on your left arm. The arm had two pieces of metal shrapnel that were removed and the abrasion was stitched closed. The muscle inhibiter is estimated to wear off within the next fifteen standard minutes. Until then Miss Shan please do not try to move or you may end up straining your muscles."

Bastila had been in infirmaries before, she knew the drill. "Alright, thank you." She said to the droid.

"Also Miss Shan, Jedi Master Vandar has been waiting for you to regain consciousness. Shall I update him of your status?"

Bastila sank back into the pillows. "Yes. Whenever is convenient for him of course…"

"Of course, Miss Shan. Please try to rest." The droid said to her before turning to leave.

Master Vandar would be disappointed in her. The eight Jedi the council had sent only three had returned, and though she had managed to bring back Revan, she was sure it was a mistake. Bastila closed her eyes, though immediately regretted it. With her eyes closed she could see Nina's body, lifeless, surrounded by blood. Nolan being crushed, his neck twisted at an awkward angle. Thomas shot in the back by Sith soldiers. Even the novice Dark Jedi she had killed on the bridge: the way his face was destroyed by the lightsabers, the horrible gurgle of his last breath stopped by the misshapen mess of what she had left of his face. She had even lost her lightsaber.

Bastila squeezed her eyes as tightly shut as she could but the tears still leaked out, streaming down her cheeks. So much death. She knew it was a trifle compared to the horrors of the rest of the Jedi Civil War, but seeing it so up close… It made her sick. She wanted to vomit.

_A Jedi shouldn't feel this way_ She thought. _A Jedi should be calm, a Jedi should be… should be… _

She tried to raise her hands to cover her face but couldn't. They were still immobile. It was such a minor inconvenience, hardly even considered an annoyance but it still pushed her over her limit. She burst into tears. She didn't know how long she cried, but she cried for them all. For Thomas, for Nolan, for Nina, for the young Sith that she had killed. For all the soldiers killed in the battle they had used to board Revan's ship. It was just too much, too much death.

Suddenly a wave of peace washed over her. Her sobs subsided to a light trembling. The tears slowed, and soon stopped. Her gulping breaths slowed to a steady, even breathing.

"Do not grieve young Padawan. Remember: There is no death, there is only the Force."

Bastila's eyes snapped open. She recognized the voice of Master Vandar. The diminutive Jedi had arrived. She turned her head to look at him, and the kind look on his face made her ashamed, she turned away. She had recognized him as the source of the calming wave. It had been years since she had lost control of herself so badly.

"For- Forgive me Master… Master Vandar… I… I…" She couldn't go on, she was on the verge of breaking down again but the calming wave washed over her again. She kept her eyes closed and focused on her breathing. Trying to pull herself together and not disappoint the council.

Vandar sighed and hopped onto the chair next to Bastila's bed. He could feel the conflict within her. He sent another calming wave toward her, watching carefully as her breathing evened out again. "I have heard the tales from the others that your bravery and determination are the reason Revan is now in our care." He saw her squeeze her eyes shut again. "You must accept that the sacrifices made by those who set out on this mission are not your fault young Bastila. The cost was high but with Revan we have access to knowledge that can put an end to this war quickly." The little alien paused, watching her, dreading the next question he needed to ask. "Bastila… I have been delving into Revans mind while I waited for you to recover. Yet searching his mind proved… difficult. Powerful memories overpowered those I sought to find. Tell me young Bastila. Do you sense anything unusual?"

It was a strange question. She was about to answer in the negative when the strong darkness suddenly returned; slumbering still, heavy, powerful. Then it hit her. The power of it, the darkness she sensed from it, the images of war and death…

"Revan…" she whispered.

Vandar hung his head. "Revan." He repeated. "On the bridge you used the Force to save his life did you not?"

Bastila turned her head to face him. "Yes… He was dying. But the mission… I couldn't let it all be for nothing!" The tears were coming back, she was sure Master Vandar would berate her for her actions, he was disappointed in her.

"You risked much to save his life. You sacrificed much as well." He said looking up at her. "And in doing so, you have bonded your life to his, and he to yours. The powerful memories I spoke of… were memories of you. Foremost in Revan's mind are images of you: Your role in the battle on the bridge, and your role in saving his life, taking him to safety. His confusion brought about by these memories, and your presence in his mind by this bond makes searching his memories for the information we require, dangerous, for both of you."

_It was a mistake!_ She thought desperately, panic and sorrow overwhelming her again. _Even in bringing him back I failed!_ She took several long deep breaths before finally making her decision.

"Master Vandar?"

"Yes young one?"

"Please take what you need from Revan's mind. Do not worry about me. Compared to what he knows I am not important…"

Vandar shook his head. "Such thoughts are unbecoming Young Bastila. A Jedi holds all life sacred. Young Padawans are included in that." Bastila's lips curled into a small smile in spite of herself. "Besides," Vandar continued, "I sense your role in these events is far from over. I have a plan that will hopefully keep both you and the young lost Knight safe."

Bastila turned to the miniature Jedi Master, confused. "How would we accomplish that Master Vandar?"

But Vandar just patted her arm. "All in time young Bastila; for the moment just focus on your recovery. I will discuss my plan with the council and when we decide on the course of action we will send for you. Until then, please rest." He said hopping down from the chair and moving toward the door.

Bastila somehow managed to sit up, obviously the muscle inhibitors had worn off. "Master Vandar! Please!" She couldn't let this happen. She couldn't let the war drag on all because of her foolishness. Why was she so important that she should have survived while so many others had died? Her hair disheveled tears streaming down her cheeks once again; her face twisted in sorrow and pain from the memories. "There isn't time to wait, please take the information you need from Revan's mind. The Republic can't survive if we wait! Let me die! Die like Nolan and Nina and –"

"Sleep!" Vandar shouted, holding his hand toward the hysterical young woman. Bastila's eyes glazed over, she swayed dangerously and fell back onto her bed, unconscious. Vandar sighed. He would have to oversee her continued training very carefully for the next few months.

As Master Vandar left the young woman to her slumber, Bastila stirred in her Force induced sleep. Her dreams were haunted by vague threats from far away; dark shapes shrouded in cloaks and darkness; infernal machines hooked up to a massive shadowed throne. A world far, far away; beautiful beaches crawling with monstrous aliens; a door… there was something very important behind it… But the images were abruptly cut off and she lay still, and slept peacefully.


	3. The Rescue

The Rescue:

A year passed.

For an entire year the war continued. After the incident aboard Revan's ship the Republic had spread the word that the Dark Lord was dead; killed by his apprentice Malak when he had opened fire on Revan's ship. Only the Jedi Council on Dantooine and the young Padawan Bastial Shan knew the truth. His memories erased or hidden and his Force power suppressed.

Darth Revan had become Aaron Stern: A galactic explorer, recruited to the Republic Fleet for his expert skill set. Aaron was an accomplished swordsman, a rather brilliant marksman, a skilled mechanic, and a genius for droid repair. In addition, he possessed almost intuitive knowledge about dozens of planets as well as the remarkable ability to understand and speak well over a score of languages.

Aaron Stern's record was not entirely spotless however. Officers frequently reported him to be insubordinate, arrogant, and often flippant. Usually a rather pleasant fellow, there were times when sleep would not come easily to him. And after those nights he was often depressed and uncooperative.

While she and the council were very careful that he did not work directly with them, Bastila was never far from his position. In suppressing his Force powers, the council had partially closed the bond between Revan and Bastila, ensuring that he could not receive anything from her while still being able to unconsciously send memories and thoughts. Bastila in turn had been trained to subconsciously block all but the strongest memories that filtered to her through the bond.

Aaron was frequently transferred as Bastila would move from system to system, using her Battle Meditation where she could. However, it was taking its toll on the young woman. She was finding that the more frequently she used her power, the more energy it took to maintain, and the more exhausted she would be when the battle ended. Months went by where she could not recall one decent night's sleep. Her bright eyes had started to become dull, with deep purple bags beneath them. She had begun spending less and less time on her appearance. He robes were often wrinkled and while she would not allow herself be lax on showers, keeping her hair clean, she found herself more and more often just letting it air dry without so much as putting a comb through it.

And still, a year later, Aaron had not recovered any important memories from his time as Darth Revan as far as she could tell. She had received nothing from him ever since his new identity had been written. And while her Battle Meditation would win battles, and Aaron's skills would often shine through and assist the fleet in some unexpected way or another, they were still loosing the war.

And then she had been given command of the _Endar Spire_.

It had been rather sudden, and had taken quite a bit of effort to get Aaron transferred aboard with her. She thought it was dangerous to even be on the same ship as him but they had little choice.

And then the _Endar Spire_ had been ambushed. The crew killed, she had been forced to flee in the escape pods before she was captured. She watched the ship explode from her pod as she entered the atmosphere of Taris. Dazed and exhausted on the surface she had been ambushed by an embarrassingly small squad of swoop gang members who called themselves the Black Vulkars. Thankfully they did not seem too bright and thought her simply a Republic officer instead of a Jedi, even after finding her lightsaber.

As humiliated and indignant as she felt to be captured by simple thugs and apparently put up as part of a prize for an underground race, she was thankful for one thing. While the Vulkars held her in their hidden warehouse she had plenty of time to catch up on her lost sleep while she planned a way to escape. However when the leader of the gang had met her he had not liked her defiant attitude. They fitted her with a neural inhibitor to scatter her thoughts and prevent her from being able to formulate a solid plan. Instead she decided to do the next best thing: rest and wait for her opportunity.

Her embarrassment and humiliation came to a peak when, the night before the race, she was let out of the warehouse and brought to another woman to be "styled" While she was washing they took her clothing, leaving only a sort of leather bikini and sheer robe for her to wear. They apparently wanted her to look "good" when the winner of the race claimed her. Forced to pick between revealing clothes or no clothes at all, Bastila gritted her teeth and suffered the embarrassment. Though to be honest much of the day of the race was a blur to her. Brejik, the leader of the Black Vulkar gang had turned up the neural inhibitor, scattering her thoughts so badly she could hardly stand. She had only just started to build up the willpower to survey her surroundings when a winner was declared.

She saw her opportunity when the winner stepped forward. Brejik seemed unwilling to give her up. They started arguing. Now was her chance. While no one was paying attention to her, she grabbed the neural inhibitor collar and with a great effort pulled it free. The shock as it was dislodged was painful to say the least, but thankfully due to her training she managed to suppress any noise she might have made. Bastila had to take a few seconds to breathe deeply and recover, when she opened her eyes, weapons had been drawn, Brejik was furious, threatening to kill everyone at the track.

Bastila reached out with the force, grabbing the guard to her cage and slamming him to the ground. As soon as he was down she used the Force again to open the lock on her cage, the door swinging open she stepped out, kicking the Vulkar in the head as he tried to stand. She crouched down and picked up his double sided vibroblade, pleased at her good fortune that her guard used a weapon style that had become her favorite over the past year.

"Vulkars! Kill this woman! Kill the rider! Kill everyone!" Berjik shouted. Most of the racers and spectators screamed and started to run, while many, the Vulkars apparently, drew weapons and rushed her. She was in trouble, there were too many. But someone started shooting and three of the attacking Vulkars fell. She did not have time to see who was helping her, as she stated to battle the two remaining Vulkars. They were strong, but not skilled. She worked the double sword in practiced and expert arcs as more blaster fire erupted, apparently the race winner and Brejik.

Bastila disarmed one Vulkar, who abandoned the fight and turned to flee. She let him go. Able now to focus on just the one opponent she made quick work of him; slicing off one hand before stabbing him in the chest.

As she pulled the blade from the Vulkar's chest she heard Brejik shout from behind her. "I've got you now you bitch!"

Bastila turned toward the sound of the voice. He was right. Brejik already had her in his sights. And with this vibroblade instead of her lightsaber she had no chance of deflecting it. She could try to knock him over with the Force but she didn't think she was fast enough. This was it. It was finally the end.

"Bastila!"

Something small and black flew through the air and collided with Brejik's arm, knocking his blaster out wide as he fired: The red bolt passing only a foot away from Bastila's shoulder. The metal object was followed a second later by a man. He vaulted over the race announcer's desk and collided with Brejik. Grasping the gang leader's head in one of his hands, the stranger slammed him to the ground with his flying weight, his hand forcing Brejik's head to hit first. Brejik hit the metal floor with a sickening crack. The stranger pushed off of Brejik's body as he impacted, rolling forward to his feet, snatching up the thrown object as he did. Then he was on his feet, whirling around and leveling the blaster at the prone gang leader. There was silence for a few moments, broken only by the stranger's heavy breathing. He suddenly smirked and pulled the trigger, blasting the obviously dead Brejik for good measure.

The stranger tossed the blaster to the ground. He knelt down and pulled something from Brejik's corpse, then stood and turned to smile at Bastila. "Well that's that then."

Bastila did not return his smile. She tightened her grip on the vibroblade. "Listen you, I don't know who you are but if you think you can collect me as a prize…" Her defiance died in her throat. It had just about a year since she had been face to face with him. He'd changed again. His hair was now buzzed short. His cheeks clean shaven, leaving only a well trimmed tuft of hair under his lower lip. His eyes were a deep, piercing blue. Only the long scar on the outside edge of his right eye was the same as before. Revan. Aaron Stern.

"I don't believe this…" Bastila finally managed to say reminding herself to call him by his new name. "You're one of the soldiers with the Republic fleet aren't you? Aaron Stern if I'm not mistaken? How did you end up racing for these swoop gangs?"

Aaron shrugged. "Only way I could get close enough to save you."

"Save me? Is this what passes for a rescue these days? I say even with your clearly low standards this is a pretty poor example. In case you hadn't noticed, I managed to free myself from the neural inhibitor collar without your help." Anger was rising in her. She was remembering who he had been not who he was now. "It's more accurate to say that _I_ saved _you_." She had been fine for almost a full year, not thinking of him as Revan but as Aaron, as long as she never had to see him it was all right. But seeing him here, now, dressed as she was, and knowing full well that he had saved her life twice during the skirmish… It made her furious. She was determined not to show her anger, but she did allow through as much scorn as she could. She continued, calmly, but as condescendingly as she could. "Brejik and his Vulkars would have killed you if I hadn't stepped in to the fight when I did. You're lucky I was here to get you out of this mess."

She could tell he was angry, he opened his mouth to say something but stopped himself. He slowly settled back on his heels and looked her over. Bastila fought hard not to blush under the intensity of his gaze.

"Okay." He said smiling. "I should get you to Carth."

"Carth Onasi is alive? Finally some good news." Her relief was obvious, partially because she was relieved to know _someone_ else had made it off the _Endar Spire_, partially because Carth would make a valuable ally in getting off Taris, and partially because it meant she would not have to be alone with Aaron. "Please take me to him right away, between the three of us I am sure we can find a way to get off this planet before the Sith realize we're here."

Aaron nodded, still with that strange smile on his face. "Alright Bastila, follow me." He started off.

Bastila moved to follow him, suddenly noticing how cold the metal floor was on her bare feet.

… Her… bare… feet…

"Stop!" She shouted after him, not entirely able to keep the panic out of her voice.

"What?" He said turning around, still with that damned smile on his face. Now she knew why it was there.

"I can't go wandering around the city dressed like… like this! I need to get some clothes!" She was starting to blush, and hated herself for it.

Aaron shook his head. He was enjoying this. It was a perfect double pleasure: First, a petty revenge for her attitude towards him, and secondly because she had a very nice body. "There's no time," he said, still unable to stop smirking at her, "Just follow close behind and people will assume I paid for you."

"Paid for me!" she shouted back, almost in a full blown panic. The thought of it: Bastila Shan, Jedi, looking like a… like a whore. And him, with that _smile_!

_Dimmit he's enjoying this, the creep_ she thought.

_Alright, alright, I've had my fun_ Aaron thought. He sighed. As much as he wanted to embarrass this… stuck up Jedi, he knew he was going too far.

"Hang on just one second," he said. He went back over to the race announcer's desk and took off his tactical vest, laying it on the table. Then, as Bastila watched fascinated, he took off his white shirt.

Bastila could not stop herself from thinking _Nice…_ before she forced herself to look away. Aaron put his vest back on and zipped it up. Then he handed the shirt to Bastila.

"This is the best I can do, now will you come with me please?" She took the shirt from him but he held it firm. Bastila was about to tell him to let go when she saw his face. He had a far away look on his face, his eyes glazed over for a second. She suddenly had an image in her mind of her, fighting the Dark Jedi on the bridge of Revan's flagship.

_Oh no,_ she thought, _If he remembers everything now we're done for. I don't know how I could possibly explain…_

But she was in luck. Aaron shook his head and let go of the shirt. Bastila discarded the useless sheer robe and put the shirt on. It was long enough that with luck people would just think she was wearing shorts. Very… short shorts.

"That's the best I can do for you." Aaron said, brandishing a long metal cylinder at her. She immediately recognized it as her lightsaber. "And I'm keeping a hold on this 'til we get back to the apartment," Bastila was about to protest when he continued. "The Upper City is crawling with Sith, and I know they'll already be looking at your legs-" She shot him a venomous look but he ignored it. "-and if they catch sight of a lightsaber, well, we'd be arrested faster than you can 'Man get a look at her!'"

He was right. But that did not stop Bastila from glowering at him. "Let's just go!" she said, tossing her head angrily and storming off toward the elevator. Aaron watched her as she walked away for a few seconds before jogging to catch up and make sure she did not get lost on the way to find Carth and the others.


	4. Pretense of a Normal Life

Pretense of a Normal Life

_AN: I was supposed to write the meeting with Canderous. But then this happened instead._

Both Bastilas frowned at one another. The Bastila in the mirror looked a lot better than the Bastila out of the mirror thought she had any right to.

Her eyes were clear again, not nearly as bloodshot as they had been, and the dark circles under her eyes had almost completely disappeared. The long hot shower she had taken the _instant_ she had gotten to the apartment hideout had helped greatly. Carth had been very happy to have finally found her but Bastila had completely blown him off. In fact she recalled completely ignoring the fact that there was a teenaged Twi'lek girl and a Wookie in the room as well until "I get a good shower and someone gets me some damn pants!"

She was unable to hide her surprise when halfway through her shower the Twi'lek had slipped into the bathroom with a set of clean clothes, especially when the girl had said they were some of Aaron's spares. What had surprised Bastila most about that was that while the clothes were naturally a little too big for her; they were almost the prefect length. She and Aaron were exactly the same height. The thought as being the same height as the former Sith Lord had made her burst into a short fit of giggles. Though the biggest surprise was when she finally emerged from her shower, having taken the time to properly dry her hair and put it into her favorite style of pigtails, there was a steaming hot meal waiting for her. Even by the minute Aaron Stern became more and more peculiar.

However, even with the long shower, clean clothes that actually covered her body, and a hot meal, Bastila had somehow still felt irritable and had berated both Carth and Aaron for not having a fully thought out plan for escaping Taris. This time though, they did not stand for it. It had been embarrassing being lectured by Carth, especially in front of the little girl and the Wookie (_Mission and Zaalbar_ she thought _I need to remember their names: Mission and Zaalbar_), but he had been right. She quietly had promised herself to listen to Carth's advice more often as he was older and far more experienced than she was.

After that uncomfortable discussion, Aaron had brought up his "vision" when he had met her after the swoop race. She had been preparing for this, and had given him vague answers about his being Force sensitive. She was careful not to get carried away and tell him anything that might lead him to think she knew him better than he thought. It felt a little wrong, but she thought that was just her being nervous about him regaining too much of his memory.

Aaron had not entirely believed her about being sensitive to the Force but he had let it go. Instead of arguing, he surprised her again buy giving her a handful of credit chips and having Mission lead them to a nearby clothing store so she could buy herself some clothes and shoes that actually fit. Bastila was convinced that he was simply trying to buy his way to forgiveness for embarrassing her after the swoop race, and while she had initially told herself she would not let him off that easy, looking at herself in the mirror now she felt like she should at least try to be nicer to him.

She had been thoroughly confused when she found the clothes until Mission had explained that they were a fashion on Taris immediately before the Sith came. The clothes closely resembled a Jedi's robes. They were simple, comfortable, and non-restrictive. Granted she had to dig to find one that was not some garishly vibrant color, but she had eventually found one in a subdued brown. It even fit.

Looking at the woman in the mirror she could hardly believe it had been just about five years since Revan left to fight the Mandalorian War. Three since he had returned as a Sith Lord. And only one year ago she had saved his life as Malak had destroyed the ship around them. She would be turning twenty-three soon. When Revan had left she had just been a girl, still an Apprentice. It felt like a lifetime ago.

She could not help but chuckle. She closed her eyes, hanging her head and bracing herself against the changing stall's wall with her left hand. _A lifetime ago? Here I am not even twenty-three talking about 'lifetimes.' If Master Dorak where here he would tell me what a _real_ lifetime feels like._

Bastila breathed a deep sigh. She felt better now: wearing actual woman's clothes. She opened her eyes and wiggled her toes inside the short comfortable boots she had managed to find as well. _Now if it happens to be affordable this would be one of my favorite stores…_ She looked at the Bastila in the mirror and smiled. It had been so long since she had genuinely smiled that she had almost forgotten how.

She quickly found that "affordable" was a relative term. She could indeed "afford" the clothes and boots, but it had used almost all of the credits Aaron had given her. She told the clerk she would wear the new clothes out and got a small bag for the ones Aaron had lent her, and then she and Mission went outside to find him.

Aaron was leaning against the wall nearby. He looked exceedingly bored. He had flatly refused to follow them into the store. When he saw them coming he smiled. Bastila was again taken aback by how much he had changed over the last year. She decided to try to forget about the truth of his past and do her best to treat him as the man he was now.

Aaron almost had not noticed the two women come out of the store. He had been looking in the direction that the strange messenger had gone. When he finally did see them, he smiled and pushed himself off the way. Bastila looked much more comfortable now that she wasn't wearing the clothes he had given her. She even gave him a small smile as they approached, though he was sure he must have imagined it.

"Do you feel better now?" He asked when they reached him.

Bastila nodded, again with that faint smile. "Yes, thank you." Mission looked sulky.

"I still think you should have gotten something nicer." Mission said.

"Mission," she said, secretly congratulating herself on remembering the girl's name, "I am a Jedi. These are the clothes I am used to. Besides I think it is much better to have something practical, I have a feeling we will have to fight before we get off Taris."

Aaron nodded. He had that feeling too. After taking a quick glance around he reached inside his tactical vest and took out a long metal cylinder, moving close to Bastila on the pretence of brushing an insect off her shoulder he lowered the lightsaber into the small bag she had gotten from the store. "I figure you'd feel more comfortable carrying that." He said quietly.

Bastila was a little uncomfortable with his sudden proximity, but grateful to have her ligthsaber back in her possession. All the same, she took a careful step back from him. "Shall we get back to the others?" she asked. The three of them started off, Bastila and Mission walking side by side in front with Aaron trailing behind, thinking.

Mission was stealing glances at Bastila, her curiosity obviously boiling just beneath the surface. She looked like she was trying to keep quiet but obviously failed.

"Hey Bastila, you're a Jedi right?"

The rather absurd question caught Bastila off guard. Wondering if there was some deeper meaning the girl had failed to convey, she answered slowly. "…Yes?"

"Have you ever used the Force just for fun? You know, just a little jolt of Force to trip up some jerk who's ticking you off? Like one of those guys who keep trying to put the moves on you no matter how many times you say no?"

Clearly she had been thinking about this for a while. Aaron looked up, drawn from his thoughts by the girl's oddly specific example. He was almost concerned, but Bastila responded immediately, almost angrily.

"I would _never_ use the Force for such a petty and trivial revenge. The mere thought of it is preposterous." She looked almost insulted that Mission had even asked her such a question. But Mission was undeterred.

"Aww come on. There have got to be times when you've thought about it. Don't be so stuck up," she smiled conspiratorially, "you can tell me, I won't tell."

Bastila was not amused. "I am _not_ stuck up. I simply have the years of training to give me the wisdom to realize how childish such an act would be."

Aaron almost winced, this was not going to end well, but Mission cut him off before he could intervene. Now it was her turn to be angry. "That a crack about my age? You're not much older than me Ms High and Mighty. Just 'cuz you're a Jedi and all doesn't mean you can be such a prissy little b-!"

She never got to finish. As she was walking her trailing leg caught on her planted foot and the next thing she knew, she was face down on the ground. Bastila continued for a few steps before stopping and turning around. Aaron stopped and was about to offer her a hand but Mission pulled herself up almost as quickly as she went down.

"What the…?" Mission spotted Bastila, who had assumed a concerned, yet bored look. "Hey that wasn't funny!"

Batila maintained her bored expression. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Mission. Come now we need to get back to the others. Please do try to be less clumsy in the future." Then she started off toward the apartment without waiting to see if the Mission or Aaron followed.

Mission stood, sputtering on the spot. Aaron grinned. He had seen that Bastila caused the poor girl trip over her own feet so Mission would never really know if she had tripped herself or Bastila had done it to her. Aaron put a hand on her shoulder and smiled kindly at her. "Let's go," he said.

Mission nodded reluctantly and they went the rest of the way back to the apartment in silence.


	5. The Deal

_AN: Apologies for the delay, this chapter was just plain painful to write._

The door to the apartment slid open and Aaron, Bastila, and Mission were promptly staring down the barrel of a blaster.

Carth's blaster.

"A little jumpy are you?" Mission asks, walking past him and sitting down at the table.

Carth promptly holstered his blaster, looking irritated. "Seeing as how we're fugitives on a Sith occupied planet, I'd say I'm being cautious."

Aaron chuckled. "It's the same thing really."

Bastila moved past Carth as well, putting her bag down on the table next to Mission. She turned back to Aaron, still standing in the doorway, staring at the floor, obviously thinking. "Aren't you coming inside?" She asked.

Aaron looked up. "No," he said after a pause, "I was invited to meet Canderous Ordo in the cantina. Apparently he has an offer we'd be very interested in." He pulled his blaster from his holster to check the charge, the dropped it back in with the soft sound of metal scraping hard leather.

Mission looked concerned. "Canderous? He's a Mandalorian, one of Davik Kang's enforcers, the best… or worst, depending on what side you're on…"

Carth was not pleased. "A Mandalorian? You can trust those battle crazed monsters to give you the time without shooting you in the back!"

Bastila put her hands on her hips. "I think that's a little harsh and overzealous of you Carth… But I agree its best not to trust a Mandalorian."

Aaron shrugged. "Trust him or no it won't hurt to go see what he wants. It would probably be worse to not go anyway." The others looked uncomfortable and Aaron nodded matter-o-factly. "Then I'll be going then. No one get caught while I'm gone." Carth and Bastila seemed to take offence at this, though Mission looked like she was suppressing a giggle, and Zaalbar was impossible to read. Before anyone could protest, Aaron shut the door and started off toward the cantina where Canderous was supposed to meet him.

After he had left, Bastila and Carth stared at each other for a while. Finally Bastila sighed. "I'm going after him."

"Good plan." Carth nodded.

The cantina was crowed, the music thudding in the background. But Canderous was not hard to find. The rest of the patrons were leaving a respectful or perhaps fearful distance from the Mandalorian. Undeterred, Aaron approached the surly man.

"Canderous?" He asked, moving up to the table.

The warrior looked up, a crooked smile on his scarred face. "That would be me. Have a seat." He said, indicating the only other chair at the table. Aaron sat down. "Before we begin," Canderous began as Aaron sat, "we should do this properly." He flagged down a waitress. The woman looked very reluctant to approach, but when Canderous simply ordered a beer, she seemed rather relived. She turned to Aaron, who also ordered a beer before she hurried away.

"Now…" he said, turning to look Aaron over carefully. "I saw you in the swoop race. Very impressive. You get results. And that is just what I'm looking for."

Aaron just grinned. "Oh? And who exactly is asking?"

Canderous kept his crooked smile. A smile Aaron knew several dead men had seen before. "My name is Canderous Ordo. I work for Davik Kang and the Exchange. Not the greatest job but they promised me a fortune, and I have nothing better to do. Mandalorians are in high demand." Canderous's smile disappeared. "Lately though that fortune they promised has been getting smaller and smaller. I figure that idiot Calo is trying to work his way up the ranks, and I don't like being cheated. I figure it's time to break the Sith quarantine and move on to better prospects."

Aaron thought this over for a few moments while the waitress returned with their drinks. He and Canderous took a swig of their beers before continuing the conversation.

"And you're telling me this, why?" Aaron asked.

The Mandalorian's smirk returned. "I have a plan to get off Taris but I can't do it by myself. I need someone I can count on to get the job done. That's why you're here. I saw you win that swoop race and I started thinking: anyone to race like that has to be crazy, and they'd probably be crazy enough to … say seal the launch codes from the Sith military base?"

That made sense to Aaron. If Canderous wanted off the planet he would need both a ship and the launch codes. And getting into a Sith military base was generally considered suicide. Sending in someone else would be a win-win for the Mandalorian. If Aaron accepted his offer and succeeded then they would get off Taris. If Aaron accepted and failed then Canderous could just find another crazy person to try for him. It was a raw deal for Aaron, even if Canderous would be willing to take him and the rest off the planet. He took another swig of his beer to buy a few seconds to think.

"This seems a little one sided, don't you think?" He said at last.

"One sided for you perhaps. A man of your skill could blend in with the planet as long as he needed to; you could probably even find your own way off given enough time. Though the same can't be said for those friends of yours…" Canderous said through that confident smirk as he took another drink. "The Republic soldier, the little girl with her Wookiee friend… and of course… The Jedi woman all have a lot more difficult a time blending in…"

Aaron had been moving to stand up but he stopped dead. He had been a fool to think Canderous did not know about them. He had met him in the Undercity before and Carth and Mission had been with him. He must have recognized Mission and knew that Zaalbar would be with him too. And he knew about the swoop race so obviously he knew about Bastila, but how had he known that she was a Jedi?

"Come to think of it," Canderous continued, putting on an innocent face, "That Jedi woman looks a lot like that 'Bastila' the Sith are looking for… I bet they'd pay a lot of credits for some information on where she's hiding…"

Aaron faked a confident smirk to mirror Canderous's. "Or they'll just take down what you say and shoot you."

"Well that's why I came to you first."

For a few moments they sat in silence, studying each other. Canderous had the upper hand now and Aaron did not have much choice but to play along.

"Let's cut the shit and talk straight." He said after a few minutes of silence.

Canderous laughed. "All right! Here's the deal. You provide the launch codes from the Sith base and I provide the ship to get us all off Taris."

Aaron thought this over. "Well for starters how am I supposed to get into the Sith base? I've seen the doors, they're too heavy to blast through and security is to highly encrypted to slice in. There's no way inside without getting noticed and having every trooper in Upper City running our way. We'd need some kind of way to bypass the security but it would take…"

Canderous finished for him. "A top of the line, borderline illegal astromech droid?"

Aaron was about to agree but he stopped himself. "You've got one don't you?" He said dryly.

"Davik had one custom built here in Upper City by a woman named Janis Nall. Just tell her I sent you and she'll know the deal."

Aaron could tell Canderous was not telling him everything about the droid, but decided not to press the issue.

Canderous continued. "Normally I'd do this myself. But everyone knows me and who I work for. If I shot my way into the base everyone would know, and Davik would make me hand over the codes right away so he can continue his smuggling or whatever. And the Sith will know too and they'd storm Davik's estate to get them back. But you… nobody knows you," he smirked again, "Mysterious Stranger. They won't know you and that would buy us some time."

Aaron sat back. There was more to this. If Canderous shot his way into the base they would call for backup and every Sith within twenty kilometers would come running. No matter how good he was he would be overwhelmed. This job required an amount of subtlety that he lacked. Canderous would never admit to it but this was literally a job he could not handle on his own. That tipped the scales back toward even. Canderous did not know anyone else who could pull it off. Aaron had been wrong before. Sending in multiple stooges would be impossible. Security would become even tighter after a failed attempt on the codes. There was one shot to do it and Canderous knew it.

"Mandalorians have changed quite a lot since the war haven't they?" Aaron asked, finishing his beer and setting the bottle aside. "I hear of a lot of them have taken up simple banditry. No honor, no battle, just petty strong-arm theft. Why should I trust you?"

Canderous looked angry. "Those cowards are the ones who fled the war instead of seeing it through to the end like us true Mandalorians. They abandoned their honor. I have not. I was there to the end, even through watching my gear destroyed. I'm telling you that if you bring me the codes I'll get you and your little friends off this planet."

Aaron smiled. "That's good enough for me. You've got yourself a deal Canderous. I'll get you those launch codes."

The Mandalorian sat back, satisfied. "Good. I'll be waiting in Javayar's Cantina. Come find me there once you get those codes. The sooner we get off this rock the better."

With that, Canderous finished his own beer, setting it down and dropping a credit chip on the table. He stood up and left. The patrons of the bar gave him that same respectful or fearful distance on his way out, though he managed to pass close to one woman in particular, dropping some credits near her and saying to the barman. "For the lady's next drink." Still smirking, he disappeared.

The woman did not look pleased. In fact she looked revolted. Aaron understood why. Bastila clearly was not happy with the situation, and even less so being recognized.

Aaron stood up and moved over to her. Now that Canderous was gone the entire bar seemed to be happy to act like he had never been there. He sat down next to Bastila at the bar and sighed. "Well what do you think?"

She still looked angry, closing her eyes she tried to remember her lessons and eventually found her focus. "I didn't sense any deception from him, which is surprising. As much as I hate to admit it, this might be exactly what we need."

Aaron nodded, he thought the same. "Carth isn't going to like this."

"Carth doesn't seem to like a lot of things. He'll manage just as the rest of us will." She paused for a few moments. Something had been bothering her for a while now. She couldn't stop herself from asking any longer. "Can I ask you something?"

Aaron looked over to the young Jedi, surprised. "Of course."

She thought hard, she did not know why this was bothering her, but it was. "At the swoop race… During the fight, when Brejik was going to shoot me… Did… Did you _throw your blaster at him_?" It had started serious, but as she spoke her voice climbed higher until instead of quiet interest it was confused indignation.

Aaron winced. "Um… Yes… Yes I did."

She turned to face him fully. "Why would you ever do that? Why not just shoot him?"

He wouldn't look at her. "Because… Well if I shot him I don't know if he would have flinched enough to not still hit you when he shot, so I did the only thing I could think of and threw my gun at his arm."

Bastila just stared at him, incredulous. At least he had a reason. And she had to admit it had probably saved her life. But still, his first instinct was to throw his weapon at the enemy? She couldn't help it and bust out laughing as the mental image of Darth Revan throwing a deactivated lightsaber at someone out of sheer frustration entered her mind.

"What's so funny!" Aaron demanded as Bastila wiped tears from her eyes. Her sides actually hurt she had been laughing so hard. She even ignored the looks the people nearby were giving her.

"It's nothing, it's nothing." She said, getting control of herself once again. "Come, we should go tell the others about this deal of yours. I suspect we have some preparation to do."

Aaron looked like he was going to pursue the topic of her laughter, but thought better of it. "More preparation than you think. We need to stop and get you some suitable supplies."

Bastila looked confused. "But I already have my lightsaber," but Aaron cut her off.

"Not so loud," he hissed, "You can't just walk in waving that thing around. Clothes are one thing for comfort but we need to get you a better disguise and a more suitable weapon." He stood up to leave and Bastila followed. She wondered what kind of disguise he was talking about.


	6. Prep Time

Bastila had no recollection of the events from leaving the cantina to being in the outfitting room in the hole-in-the-wall supply shop Aaron had found. Despite this, apparently somewhere along the line something amazing had happened because, according to the dirty full length mirror, she had changed into "armor." She would have made air quotes had she spoken aloud.

She was wearing a skin tight black suit of some sort of dense mesh with glossy black ceramic plates over strategic points.

It took her a long moment to find her voice, but when she did, she used it.

"No! No, no, no, no, no!"

Outside she heard Aaron's voice: "We'll take it."

"We will not!" she shouted at him, still not able to take her eyes off the… the creature in the mirror. The suit was so tight and it clung to her like… like something she did not want to think about.

"I paid for it the instant you walked in there now come out here so I can have a look. I also have a present for you."

She hated that voice. So smug. "I'm putting _MY_ clothes back on now!"

"No time, Carth just left, I have an appointment with the droid dealer and you have to take Mission to the lifts. Now come on and get out here."

Bastila almost stamped her foot in frustration but managed to stop herself. Then Aaron spoke again. "Also I had Mission steal your robe."

It was too much. She let out a stifled cry of frustration and almost kicked the door open and stormed out into the shop. Had she not been so flustered she would have been very grateful there was no one else in the shop. The owner was watching with an amused expression, probably perfectly content with all the money Aaron had already given her. Mission was standing near the door, the bundle of Bastila's clothes under her arm. And in the middle of the room was the infuriating man himself, holding a long something in his hands. She stormed up to him and opened her mouth to shout like she had not wanted to shout at him since the swoop race when he whirled around and held the object out toward her.

"I bought you a sword." He said, holding it out in her general direction and letting it go, forcing her to quickly reach out to catch it least it clatter to the ground. She did catch it, and only after she had did she wonder why she bothered. Her train of thought broken it took her a moment to remember what she was supposed to be doing, but by then it was too late.

Aaron was already on his way out of the store. He paused by Mission to say softly but loud enough that Bastila still heard. "Be easy on her, she's had a rough day," and then he was gone.

She just stood there in the middle of the shop, flustered, bewildered, and wearing something she usually saw on women she did not approve of. A little part of her wanted to cry. She did not actually cry though. She settled on mumbling.

"That man is… impossible…"

Mission slowly moved up to her and patted her arm. "On the bright side it looks _really_ good on you. I'm surprised he didn't stare."

Bastila hoped the look she gave the young Twi-lek clearly said 'Don't start, you're not helping and give me back my clothes,' And it very well may have because Mission looked uncomfortable and said "Oh my well we should get going, Big Z and I gotta' go sell some swoop parts… We should all get going…" and slowly made her way toward the door where Zaalbar was waiting.

This planet was becoming a string of one embarrassment after another for Bastila. She tried to keep her mind off it by very carefully examining the long object that Aaron had all but thrown at her. As he had said, it was a sword. A double sided vibroblade to be precise. The center handle was made of some sort of bone, smooth but held a much better grip than she hand anticipated. The blades were covered with black plastic covers that snapped flush to the handle. The whole ensemble looked like it should be hung on a wall for decoration only, but after examining it she was convinced it was of good quality.

As they walked Bastila looked to the girl beside her. "Mission, where is Aaron getting all of these credits he is spending?"

Mission shook her head. "I don't know. Didn't really think about it. What about you Big Z? Got any ideas?"

Zaalbar growled what Bastila assumed was a negative. Mission translated. "We are on our way to sell off a lot of swoop parts we picked up at the Vulkar base earlier."

Bastila sighed. Mission was off to sell stolen goods, Aaron was going to acquire an illegal astromech droid, Carth was who knows where, and she herself was wearing some scandalously tight… thing…

She had almost managed to forget about the thing. But now she could not stop noticing the way it fit. Bastila was, for the moment, glad there had been no other survivors of the _Endar Spire_. That way there was no one besides Carth and the locals to see her being bossed around and made a fool of by a man who almost never left the repair bays.

Mission: "What do you think Big Z? This long enough?"

Bastila, shaken out of her own thoughts looked at the girl. "Long enough for what?"

Zaalbar growled again. This time Bastila did not have the slightest idea what he was trying to say.

"Well we're at the lift so I think its ok to tell her," Mission again. And they had indeed arrived at the lift to the Lower City. Mission and Zaalbar had stopped to converse. Bastila had continued a few steps ahead before realizing that she had left them behind, turning to give each one of them her best penetrating stare.

"Tell me what?" She was getting worried now, and she made a silent vow to strangle Aaron, she just knew he was behind whatever this new development was.

Mission turned to her and looked nervous, not meeting her gaze. "We were supposed to distract you so Aaron could get the droid without you. He said something about 'disapproving methods.'"

Bastila took a deep breath and forced herself to be calm. She was indeed going to strangle him whenever it was that she found out what it was that he had done this time. "Which way is the shop."

Mission pointed and Bastila started off without another word. Her new, glossy black boots making loud clicks on the metal street. As she neared the store she saw the sign over the doorway read "Nall's Droids." She prepared herself to storm in and grab Aaron by the ear and drag him out when she caught sight of him walking rapidly out of the store. He was closely followed by a little droid wheeling along at his heel. He was also sliding his blaster back into his holster.

"What did you do?" she demanded. However, he refrained from answering her, simply walking past, taking her arm and turning her around.

"Just walk fast," he said, "it took a large pile of credits some sweet talking and a little gun waving to get that droid. Now we have to get into that base for those codes before she changes her mind and turns us in."

Stunned, she turned and walked with him. She glanced down to the little droid which returned her look and made an introductory beep and warble. Bastila could only repeat her previous question. "What did you _DO_?"

Again he did not answer her. Instead he asked a question of his own.

"Do jedi get expense reports? If not you should look into it because we need one and the Republic is getting tired of looking at mine."

_This man is impossible!_ She thought.


	7. How Not to Break Into a Sith Base

Aaron half led half dragged Bastila along, past the turbo lifts and in the direction of the Sith military base. The metal street narrowed into what might have been a checkpoint but was currently unmanned before widening into a large and open lane. To her left were several landing pads, most of which were occupied by Sith fighters.

Carth was waiting for them by one of the empty pads. Bastila noticed that he was not wearing his flight jacket as usual, but instead a blue grey jumpsuit with an armored breastplate. His signature pistols were holstered on his thighs and he had a rifle slung over his shoulder. One hand held the strap, making sure the rifle did not slide out of place while his other held an oval metallic item.

When he saw them he moved quickly over to one of the occupied pads while waving them over to use one of the fighters as visual cover should someone happen along. "It's about time you guys got here," he said, fidgeting with the strap of his blaster rifle again, "they're clearly overconfident or none too bright but it's only a matter of time before we start to attract attention. This the droid? Are we good to go?"

Aaron patted the little droid on the head. "He is indeed. This is T3-M4, newest addition to our little group. Teethree, this is Carth Onassi and Bastila Shan." He gestured to each of them in turn as he introduced them. The astromech droid beeped and warbled his pleasure to being part of the team. Aaron smiled, clearly very happy with the acquisition of the droid but Carth was determined to move things along.

"I stashed your gear behind this fighter, you really ought to get ready." Aaron made an expression indicating he knew that he should be preparing and that he was indeed already on it. He also surprisingly fitted his actions to his expression and moved off out of sight behind the ship, already starting to remove his tactical vest.

Bastila watched him go, curious what gear Carth had been referring to and a small part of her brain wondered why she always seemed to be fascinated with the donning or removal of Aaron's clothes from either his body or hers. Another small part of her brain told the first part to shut up and quit complaining about it. It was around that point her training kicked in and she returned her attention to Carth. The fact that Aaron had just gone completely out of sight had nothing to do with the switch in mindset.

"So what is the plan? I assume we are not going to just shoot are way in. I'm not keen on a suicide mission." She noticed Carth's eyes rapidly returning to hers and it was then that she remembered about the scandalous _thing_ she was wearing. As if in response to her sudden acknowledgement of it she suddenly felt how tightly it clung to her hips and legs particularly and felt the extra tightening pressure of the armored ceramic plates on her body.

Much to his credit, Carth answered her question without hesitation or confusion. Perhaps she had been mistaken about the focus of his gaze. "We are going to be posing as mercenaries or bounty hunters. Aaron seems to think he will be able to talk his way into seeing the governor or at least close to it so that we can be well inside and past the worst of the security when we make our move. We have taken some precautions," he held up the oval metal thing that Bastila suddenly recognized as a standard issue vacuum mask, "but we figure if we get the opportunity to wipe their security holocams and the like on our way out, so much the better."

As far as plans went it was pretty sparse. Her expression clearly indicated her disapproval and Carth held up his hands and patted the air in front of him as if to ward off her doubt.

"Hey, I'm not thrilled with it either but we don't know much of anything about the inside of this base. We haven't been able to get a hold of a floor plan or even have an idea how many troops are inside. We do know it isn't a barracks so we think dozens rather than hundreds. Aaron worked up a bit of a reputation in the Taris dueling arena as well as taking down a few bounties. So he figures his alter ego should be able to get somewhere. And honestly it's our best shot. Go in asking about a job, be egotistical and demand to see the boss, get as high up as we can before starting our move." Carth held up the vacuum mask and grinned. "A little overly dramatic but it gets the job done. Aaron wore one of these for most of his duels. Better this than showing the whole planet your face."

She had to admit that he made a good point. Though she had not known about Aaron's activities prior to their finding one another. She was not entirely comfortable with the plan. Then again neither was she comfortable with the idea of Aaron moonlighting as a masked bounty hunter. Or really Aaron wearing any kind of mask, it reminded her too much of-

"Alright I'm ready to go."

It was Aaron's voice but it was slightly muffled, distorted. When she saw him she nearly screamed, panic rising in her. For a moment she saw him how he used to be, the dull red and black mask over his face, hooded, dark and imposing. An irrational, fearful part of her thought that Revan had come back to kill her. It only took about two seconds for her to realize the mask was not the one she had pried from his unconscious body after dragging him from the exploding wreck of his ship. Instead this one was gold, still battered and scratched but not the terrifying red mask he had worn as the Sith Lord. His armor was also Mandalorian, or parts of Mandalorian armor. The chestplate and pauldrons were the heavy duraplast of the standard Mandalorian battle armor, however the arms and legs were mostly exposed, covered by the grey jumpsuit. He had however elected to use the heavy gold colored gauntlets and boots. With the mask he had over half a set of the armor.

She must have had a rather extreme expression because both Carth and Aaron reached for their blasters and turned in opposite directions, seeking threats where there were none. When Aaron turned, scanning the short distance of the landing pad behind him and saw nothing he turned slowly back to Bastila and wordlessly pointed at himself. Rather embarrassed with herself, she nodded and he pulled off the mask to reveal his grinning face. "Don't worry, it's only me."

Still embarrassed with her reaction and hoping she had not given away its true purpose through the Force bond. She quickly covered her embarrassment and fear with the obvious question. "Where did you get that armor?" She asked in a hissing whisper.

Aaron gave her a strange look before affixing the mask back to his face. "From a dead Mandalorian. Come on, we've spent too much time here as it is. Teethree, get started on that door. Carth, keep your eyes peeled on the courtyard, I don't want to get surprised by a patrol while I'm working a deal. Bastila, stay close, tell me if you sense anything off."

Just like that he was in charge. He was Revan again, the commander. Bastila shuddered in spite of herself, possibly at the sudden transformation and partially because she obeyed him without question. Carth stayed a few steps back, watching the road while she, Aaron and T3 went to the door. The little droid plugged himself in and started beeping, whirring a bit while he started slicing the security door. Aaron tapped the droid on the head. The droid swiveled his head around to make an angry spitting noise. Aaron shrugged in reply.

Bastila raised an eyebrow at him. Aaron replied by deftly reaching out and putting a targeting visor over her eyes. She was about to protest but the droid let out a triumphant warble and the door slid open. She got the impression Aaron was grinning. "Showtime," he said, gesturing for the others to follow him. Together they filed into, what might be considered, the jaws of the enemy.

Like most planets occupied by the Sith troopers of Darth Malak and formerly Darth Revan's armies, Taris had been under republic 'control' for the majority of its existence. What was currently deemed the Sith Military Base had, in its previous life, been security station for the local police. The lobby was, as to be expected, spacious and airy with the rather apparent signs that the doors they had just passed through used to be transparasteel, or possibly even glass to let in the sunlight and give a sense of openness between visitors and their security. The lighting was also evidently based on this premise because the room was gloomy to the point of oppression. Fitting for a Sith compound at least.

The center of the room was dominated by a large desk with a high counter to accommodate standing visitors and to obscure the computers and datapads used by the secretary. And there was a secretary. A Twi'lek woman sat behind the desk. She looked up from her game of Minesweeper as the doors hissed open, but hardly paid the small band of invaders a second glance. "You're not allowed in here," she said simply, lifting a hand over the counter to wave them off like a bothersome insect, "you should leave before I call security."

Aaron slung his blaster rifle over his shoulder and moved up to the desk, folding his arms on the counter and leaning over, the very picture of casual. "Now now, you don't want to do that. The Governor should be expecting me. Pulling the alarm at the first sight of someone not in a shiny uniform would only cause trouble."

Bastila and the receptionist's expressions were probably mirrors of confusion. This was his plan? Of all the devious things he managed to talk her into so far, the best he could do was 'I have an appointment'?

Following the same thoughts, the receptionist half heartedly punched a few buttons on her panel. "Do you have an appointment with the Governor? I'm not seeing anything in the system." She gave Aaron a wary look, as if she were going to pull the alarm any second. Aaron however preempted her by pushing off from the counter and making a grand gesture.

"But we are Bounty Hunters my dear," he paused to make an exaggerated and evaluating look in her direction, with the mask it was difficult to pull off but somehow he did, "we do not have appointments. I thought everyone knew that sooner or later the best men, and best woman," he made another grand gesture, this time toward Carth and Bastila, who stood in what they hoped to be sullen silence, "for the job would eventually come to the man who has such a singular and difficult manhunt on his hands." Aaron moved back to leaning on the counter, arms crossed over his chest. "Frankly, we are here to find that jedi for him, if he is paying right of course. The Mysterious Stranger does not work for free, in fact I don't even work for normal rates, very very steep rates. Yes, that is the ticket."

The title "Mysterious Stranger" he had given himself had no effect on Bastila other than a souring of her expression at his melodrama, however the effect on the receptionist was very different. Her eyes lit up as she gave him a closer inspection. "_The_ Mysterious Stranger?" She asked, "From the Dueling Arena?"

Bastila could almost feel the smugness radiate off Aaron. She wanted to punch him. Instead she leaned over to Carth and in a hissing whisper asked, "Mysterious Stranger?"

Carth shrugged, "Hutt's idea. Gave him an alias while we were looking for you, and he wore a mask. It fit. I'm not keen on his bounty hunting pit fighting persona either, looks like his head is going to swell up."

Bastila was about to deliver another scathing reply when the doors behind the reception desk slid open and a full squad of Sith troopers marched in. In the lead were a crimson clad sergeant and an officer. The officer was handing over a holopad, the projected image of which was a very accurate and, they all noticed, rather flattering image of none other than Bastila. The image had probably been taken from when she led the attack on Revan's ship, The _Chimera_. For a moment all conversation halted as the troopers eyed Bastila and Bastila, Aaron, and Carth eyed the troopers. The receptionist swiveled in her seat, looking at everyone. T3-M4 made a guilty whistle.

Even with the changes Aaron had made to her wardrobe and with the addition of the targeting goggles pressed over her eyes, this close, and with a representation of her in their hands there was no mistaking that the jedi the Sith had been searching for so long had walked right into their mists. The officer gestured violently toward everyone in front of him in the room. "Arrest them!" he barked and half a dozen Sith troopers raised their blasters for the customary Sith incarceration preparation. Namely, a laser bolt to the face.

Aaron swore quietly, reaching out and shoving the receptionist out of her chair, pushing her to the floor and out of the line of fire before ducking behind the counter himself. Carth proved the faster than the troopers, his rifle forgotten on his shoulder. His pistols were in his hand, firing.


End file.
